


all the wrong we've done

by Gay_as_fuck



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Flashbacks, Gen, Recovery, after luna 2, mentions of gore, spoilers for the luna 2 ark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gay_as_fuck/pseuds/Gay_as_fuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hell is not hot. It's words to heavy on the tongue, a captain who hasn't kept his promise, a gun in your hand, and your dead friend's blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the wrong we've done

**Author's Note:**

> This focuses mainly on the aftermath of the Luna 2 ark, with Ratchet, First Aid, Rodimus, and Ultra Magnus. This is my first time writing something like this so bombs away.

Ratchet gave a sigh. First Aid was 'busy' working and not dealing with his feelings, something Ratchet could relate to. The CMO sat in his office, mind still flashing the dull pink color of Energon while his hands itched. If he wasn't starting at them he wouldn't have known they were clean. He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to help someone, he'd rather use his hands for healing.

He felt like hell for lying to First Aid, he just couldn't let First Aid get in the way. He wanted to make the kid CMO, he really did, but now that his hands wouldn't freeze up there was no need to give up that position. Ratchet's memory pulled him out of coherent thoughts and back into making a gun out of his co-worker's guts. His hands began to twitch, moving and building just as in his mind.

He left hand pulled as if it was pulling through useless wire. Not useless thought, it had been vital to life for Ambulon but they lay useless in his hands. He could hear First Aid yelling in his ears to let him help. Ratchet tried to steel himself from breaking down because he was making his friend's guts into a gun. A single thought kept him going, he had to get First Aid out. At least one of them had to make it out.

The words ripped through his mind with utter desperation, at least one of us has to make it. In a heavy and hot vent Ratchet found himself back in his medbay on the lost light. He didn't need to look at his hands to know they were dirty.

\----------

Ultra Magnus glared at the door, hoping maybe that would make it open and Rodimus would come out. He could imagine the captain sauntering on the deck with his signature smile, very large and very fake. That had always been the captain's style, fake happiness beats misery. As Ultra Magnus growled he wished that the captain was out on the bridge with fake happiness and false hope.

Rodimus had locked himself in his room, not doing work or getting treated for his dangerous injuries. He hadn't even gotten checked when he first came back up, all he had done was tell Magnus he was going to "get better" but instead of doing that he had drunk himself silly and locked himself in his hab suite. Rodimus should be out here, he felt like yelling. He had half a mind to break down the door and drag Rodimus out. Rodimus who had make a promise to shape up and take responsibility was running from it.

He should be trying to make amends and re-assure a worried crew. Rodimus had made a promise, saying to him that dying would be a cheap way out. Wallowing in his own misery was also a cheap way out. 

Ultra Magnus walked away from the door, feeling guilty for leaving his captain there and wanting him to hate himself. He kept his half of mind that told him Rodimus was a lier and couldn't be trusted. It was a cheap way out of dealing, and out of confrontation.

\----------

First Aid was cleaning and trying not to think. He was failing with the latter, as he scrubbed the medbay all the dull pink stains put him back on Luna 2. They put him back yelling at Ratchet and watching his mentor take apart his friends corpse in a way that looked wrong. It was, because it was never meant to save him. He tried to push his mind back to his work only to notice that he had scrubbed an indent into the slab.

He grumbled, tossing his steel brush aside and feeling over the scored metal. It was rough and needed care, which First Aid felt represented his metal state. Everything reminded him of his friend. Every flash of pink was spilled energon and every weight in his hands was-no he wouldn't think about that. He was a medic for primus sake, he wasn't supposed to do that.

He moved to lean against the slab, trying to clean would only result in more slabs with rough spots and Ratchet hated those. First Aid knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help but hate Ratchet. He had lied and said he was trying to fix ambulon, and had refused to let First Aid help. Did he know how much that hurt, to watch your friend be on the brink of death ( or so he had though) and not be able to help.

He got what Ratchet wanted to do but, it still hurt. His hate bubbled up into an image of pharma appeared in his mind. The mech had thought that it all was some twisted game, something to joke about and play with. 

He had shown Pharma that it wasn't a game, the damn fool had been smiling. That blast had taken the smile off, and according to everyone, it should have felt great. To watch one who hurt your friends and you die, but it didn't. Pharma had shown him that everything was real, and nothing was a game.

He saw what was left of Pharma's head in his mind and he doubled over, putting his hand across his face just like he had done on Luna 2. He knew his hands weren't covered in energon this time but he still felt as if they left the pink goup all over his visor. 

\----------

It was dark in his room but Rodimus really didn't care. His lights had burned out one by one a few days ago, but that wasn't a problem. He was hungry and exhausted but he couldn't bring himself to get up and get anything to eat.

Rung was to busy to come see him, and most of the crew didn't even know about what he was doing. If he went out of his room he'd have to tell the truth, he'd have to face what he'd done. There could be no lies and no excuses, no shields to hide behind anymore.

The truth glared like the small crack of light that shown from under is door. It clawed at him like his hunger, telling him to come out and face it. If it were up to him he would never have to leave his room. But the longer he stayed there the more going out seemed frightening. The more the world seemed to bright and to fearful. But at his weakest he had made a promise.

A promise at his weakest, that he would confess to the energon on his hands, that he wouldn't take the cheap way out and that it wasn't a game. These were lives he had on his hands. Futures and hopes he was steering with this ship. If he didn't tell them all then he never changed. He'd be breaking his promise. 

But as he tried to steel himself, to get up and face the world he got as far as standing up. Then all the things he'd have to do and say blurred the world and he collapsed back onto his recharging pad. He had to do this, there was no other choice; but he couldn't.

An idea suddenly came to his mind, he didn't even have to get out of his room. He began to record his message and download it onto one of his data slugs which he slipped under his door with a note.

"Play this over the whole ship Magnus, and make sure that you don't listen to it first."

He gave a sigh, whatever was to happen and however it all played out he had done it. Moving back to his recharge slab he waited in something akin to agony both from his unchecked wounds and the waiting.

Nothing would be the same, he hadn't done the right thing; the right thing would have been confessing in person right when they got back. But he wasn't the kind of mech who could do the right thing. The truth was out and time was the only shield he had to hide behind now.


End file.
